15 Surprises for you REWRITE
by Keeta-x-Tribias
Summary: Peeta's got something in store for our favorite Mockingjay on their 15th anniversary. Rewrite of "15 Surprises for you". The original can be found on my deviantART. See my profile for the link. -Tribias-
1. When I first saw you

**A/N: Hello. So, I promised to have this up two weeks ago, but I was pretty busy. Sorry. But, hopefully, you'll be seeing more updates. And, one more thing: can I set a goal of ****_at least _****150 reviews? I would love it if we reached that by the penultimate chapter, and even more if we reach ****_more _****than 150 reviews. :)**

**Also, if anyone wants me to post the statistics (reviews, favorites, etc.) of the original, just say so in a review.**

**Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own it.**

**Katniss PoV**

I am awoken by the unusually cold side of the bed. Immediately, I think that I must have overslept and Peeta has gone to fix us breakfast. But that thought is shot down by the clock that reads 4:30. I _have _overslept. I was supposed to be up half an hour ago to go hunting. But it still doesn't explain why he's not here.

My next theory is that he had a nightmare and went somewhere to go calm himself down. But that doesn't seem right since he _always _wakes me. I begin to worry.

_He may be having a flashback. _I start to get frantic. I get up from my bed and look around the room and the connecting bathroom. "Peeta?" I call.

No response.

I open the door out to the hallway and call out, looking for him.

No response.

I go downstairs and the smell of freshly-baked bread calms me. _He's here. _I go into the kitchen "Peeta?"

No response.

I spot a loaf of loaf of cheese buns along with a folded note on top of a plaid cloth. I smile to myself, _oh, Peeta._

I pick up said note and read it:

_When I first saw you, we were 5, you were wearing a plaid dress and your hair was in two braids instead of one._

_Eat all of the bread for breakfast. You have a long day ahead of you. And you may as well take an energizing shower and wear some comfortable clothes._

_And, Katniss. Sorry for making you worry on our 15__th__ anniversary. Don't worry about me. I planned a little something for you._

_Love,  
Peeta_

I eat the cheese buns, and as I do, I notice a much larger sheet of paper: a map of district twelve. On the map is a highlighted route. I decide to do what Peeta said to do before heading out.

I take a quick shower and slip on my normal underclothes along with a set of clothes I'd wear to go to the Merchant's shops. And from there, I set off to where the boy with the bread saved my life so many years ago.


	2. The Boy with the bread

**A/N: I am so sorry for the late update! My internet was terrible for two days, so I couldn't get anything uploaded, or even get on the internet. It was really bad! But, without further delay, here's the rewrite for chapter 2!**

**Disclaimer: Do I look even a little like SC? No.**

The map directed me to the back door of Peeta's bakery, where he'd replanted an apple tree and fenced in a few of Haymitch's geese. A boy, about 11, I recognize him as one of Peeta's students for the summer's baking lessons, exits through the door, carrying two loaves of slightly burnt bread that had nuts and fruit in them.

He handed them to me with a folded note as well as a new map. I thank him and walk over to the bench under the apple tree.

There, I take a chunk from the unburnt portion of one of the loaves and eat it. It was the same. It was the same as the one he'd tossed me all those years ago, in the rain, when Prim and I were starving to death.

_Prim. _At the thought of her, I nearly cry. But I take the folded note and read it, to maybe stop myself from releasing the tears.

_My dear Katniss, Do you remember the two loaves I gave you more than 20 years ago, when we were kids and you and Prim were starving to death? I decided to give you the exact same kind of bread that I "accidentally" dropped into the fire. I apologize if memories that haunted you before come back. _

Nope, not helping at all. A slight stream of tears work their way down my cheeks as I remember the rest of that day.

The first thing I think of was 7-year-old Prim's excited face when I brought home the still-warm loaves of bread. The next was less of a pleasant memory.

The next memory was of the games, when I told him about how I never forgot about the bread, and how I was never going to be able to repay him for it. I guess it is a sweet memory, but those around it- those of the games- were definitely not sweet.

And it seems as though my mind just loves being sad, because the next memory was the bombing. Not of the 75th Arena, not of district 12, but of the Capitol. The bombing ordered by Coin, unknown until the event to its designers, who had thought said weapon of destruction would only be used to _lessen _lives lost. I thought of Prim and how she burned that day, how I should have been able to save her. And how I couldn't.

Before any more thoughts like those appear in my mind, I set off to the location my map tells me to go.


	3. The Bright Yellow that Means Rebirth

**A/N: I am so absolutely sorry for not updating! And I am really sorry to say that updates will be much more scarce- less than 1 every month or two- because I'll be starting high school. And my new school lasts from 7 in the morning to 4/5 in the afternoon plus and hour drive to and from home. So, I'll try to keep updating, but will have to put HRIBNTT on hiatus, and this story will be on semi-hiatus meaning: much, much less updates until break.**

**Disclaimer: If I owned THG, I would have put Annie's reaction to FInnick's death.**

It leads me to the meadow. The one that buries the dead; the one on top of the burnt people; the one where District 12's darkest hour is buried.

I tell myself to count- another method Dr. Aurelius taught me.

_One._

Why would Peeta bring me here?

_Two._

Will it hold happy memories one again?

_Three._

This is the meadow my daughter will play on; we will bring her here.

_Four._

The past is buried. She will learn, and we will learn to live again; just as we have been doing for fifteen years.

_Five._

Dandelions.

Where did the dandelions go? They were all here yesterday! The only ones left form a single line.

_Oh, Peeta._

The dandelions lead me to a cute little wicker basket. Long, thin leaves weave around its body and inside, dandelions. The fluffy-headed white ones line the sides, and their bright yellow siblings flood the basket.

Poking out of the weeds, is another letter:

_Remember that afternoon in the schoolyard, after I gave you the bread, we locked eyes for that one second and you broke contact at the sight of that dandelion. The one that you came to know as a symbol of hope, a symbol of, I think, me. That is what made today, well, today; hope is the thing that allowed the rebels to take over, for the new day. This is why we are now together__._

I smile as I get up and pick up the basket. As I do, a little piece of paper flutters down. I grab it and read:

_Sewing Shop_


End file.
